


A Glitch in the System

by Meaningless_Mayhem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AI Tony Stark, AKA my first proper fanfic, Angst, Body Modification, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Extremis Tony Stark, Heavy Angst, Hiatus, How Do I Tag, I mean it when I say irregular updates, I'm Serious, I'm really really sorry, I'm so sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kinda, M/M, Multi, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Tony-centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Who Knows?, Whump, and people keep breaking it, don't copy to another site please, hiatus for who knows how long, hiatus until i can get my shit together, i'm not a professional, inaccurate medical procedures, irregular updates, just had to point that out just in case, lots of inaccuracies probably, maybe ooc???, not really team cap friendly, or alternatively, please read the author's notes on chapter 3 for details, probably, sorry in advance, thank you wikipedia for providing me information for the summary, way worse, we're in it for the long haul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meaningless_Mayhem/pseuds/Meaningless_Mayhem
Summary: Sentience: The capacity to feel, perceive, or experience subjectively.  In other words, the ability to feel.In philosophies of animal welfare and rights, sentience implies the ability to experience pleasure and pain.Sentience is also a minimalistic way of defining consciousness.---Tony will get better,bebetter.He'll improve.He'll evolve.He'll upgrade.(Working Summary)





	1. Stay Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pursuit of Happiness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058756) by [zade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade). 
  * Inspired by [No Longer Human](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19170928) by [babywarg (morphaileffect)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/babywarg). 
  * Inspired by [Frostbitten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097466) by [Corvixa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvixa/pseuds/Corvixa). 

> Hi! Meaningless_Mayhem here! This is my first time posting anything on AO3, and my first time writing a full-on fanfic, so bear with me.
> 
> Before We Begin:
> 
> This story is not particularly Steve or Team Cap friendly, but I won't make them complete psychopaths, even if I was a little bitter about Civil War. This is not to say that everything will be fine and dandy and they'll automatically get pardoned and forgiven, but I won't bash them too much, hopefully. I thought that Wanda could've been characterized a lot better and that Clint didn't have to be an asshole, among other things, and Steve in Civil War was an even bigger asshole, so I'll try to write all of Team Cap better (idk about Steve though tbh).
> 
> LOTS AND LOTS OF TONY ANGST. I'M SERIOUS. LIKE MESSED UP AMOUNTS. I MAKE MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS SUFFER, I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> About the ship: Yes, I love IronStrange a lot, but I've never written a full-on fanfic let alone romance before, and this'll be a slow burn fic, so I'll try my best to make their interactions naturally progress. NO SMUT. I probably won't write anything spicier than intense kissing.
> 
> There will probably be many inaccuracies because I am definitely not a professional in law, medicine, or technology, but I'll try my best.
> 
> I mess a little bit with the timeline for the story's sake but nothing too major.
> 
> Updates will probably be irregular due to my motivation levels and other things.
> 
> Enjoy!

Cold.

Endless, painful, yet numbing cold.

It crawled up his arms, wrapped around his legs, and cradled his face in its chilling embrace. It seeped into his bones like water soaking into the earth after a storm, except it was _ so cold yet oh god it was burning, burning him from the inside out oh god— _ and wouldn’t let him go. The frosty winds of the mountains whispered in his ears and washed over his frail form in a bitter stream of ice and snow. The metal of his suit only amplified the sheer _ cold _ that was emanating through him.

The arc reactor was long since destroyed, and all communications were cut the moment the shield—_ My father made that shield! _ —crushed the titanium above his already weakened chest. It’s only been minutes _ (or has it been hours?) _ since Steve Rogers and Barnes waltzed their way out of the freezing bunker in the middle of nowhere, Siberia after beating him to a pulp and leaving him here like the useless piece of garbage he is. He doesn’t want to think about the implications of that. To think that he’s no more than a means to an end to Rogers, a toy to play with and use to his will until he got bored of him and threw him away like everyone else.

He shouldn’t be surprised, it shouldn’t hurt so much because he’s been betrayed so many times by people he thought were his friends for years _ ( _ _<strike> Stane</strike>) _ , but he can never learn, can he? Even when it’s been shoved repeatedly into his head that people will take advantage of him and use him for his money, fame, inventions, anything really, he still clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they will stay because he’s just so _ lonely and broken and so selfish and _—

His chest is on fire. The shards of the crumpled suit cut into him, and the blood slowly pouring out was a dark shade of crimson that almost blended in with the red of the armor. _ It’s almost fitting, _ Tony mused bitterly. _ The Merchant of Death, painted with the colors of all his victims… about to be stained with his own. _

He can’t breathe. He can’t _ breathe. _ His lungs won’t work, and each painful breath he takes burns his throat and sends him into a hoarse coughing fit. He hacks up several drops of blood. _ It tastes like metal. Iron. Iron Man. _ Tony would’ve laughed if he had the energy to do so. He can barely move his arms and legs. Worryingly, he can’t feel his fingers or toes that much.

All he can do is think. Rogers knew. He _ knew _ that his parents were murdered for over two years and didn’t even bother to tell him. _ (Howard! _ — _ Please, please help my wife…) _ All because of his best bud Bucky Barnes. But why would Tony possibly mean anything to Rogers? He certainly didn’t mean anything to the Avengers for some time now. _ (You gotta watch your back with this guy. There’s a chance he’s gonna break it.) _ Especially after Ultron. _ (Stark is a sickness!) _ They all left. Only Vision and Rhodey _ (I’m so sorry. I should've done better.) _ stayed and mostly out of obligation. He should be _ used to this. _ Nobody wants Tony for Tony. Nobody would trust Tony because he’s an arrogant, selfish, billionaire bastard playing the hero. He’s made so many mistakes and he’s tried and tried to make up for them but it’s never enough. He’s killed so many people and ruined so many lives. It’s never enough. It’s never enough. It doesn’t bring back the people that were lost.

But Rogers still kept it from him. Tony thought he was his friend and that he could trust him. But trust works in both ways. What’s one person’s trust when the other won’t reciprocate?

_ Stop. No. _ He can’t keep thinking about that. He needs to think about surviving. There’s so much left that he needs to do. He needs to get rid of Ross. He needs to help Rhodey walk again. The Spider-Kid should at least have a little bit more support. SI needs to keep making bigger and better products… _ So much work, so much to do… _

Everything was getting heavy and blurry.

_ No! No! No! _

He’s so tired…

_ Stop it! _

Maybe he can rest his eyes for a little while…

Tony’s mind shifts into unconsciousness.

* * *

_ The shield keeps slamming into his neck, chipping off pieces of the helmet. _

_ All Tony can see is the uncaring glare of his former friend as he rips off the head of the armor. _

_ The wind rushes to his ears, the determination of the face above him never wavers as he holds the vibranium shield up in the air, preparing for the killing blow…! _

* * *

Tony jolts awake. He tries to slow his rapid breaths and pounding heart as the remnants of his dream (memory) fade slowly to the back of his brain. He jolted again for another reason. _ Shit! _ He fell asleep! That’s something that would be very unhelpful if he ever wanted to escape this damn bunker. He needs to go back. He needs to stay alive for Rhodey.

He tests his range of motion. The Iron Man armor is dead, the remains of the arc reactor are no longer glowing its ethereal blue that it usually does. Dead weight. He can hardly move. He tests the emergency manual release by his sides. It won’t budge. Jammed and frozen. _ Great. Just what I needed. _

He looks around the secluded room as much as he can. The only things nearby are broken machinery and the weapons left behind. Even with the scarce equipment to work with, he still couldn’t move at all, so building was a bust. It was hopeless. The arm and the red, white, and blue shield linger in his line of sight as if mocking him. Here he was, abandoned like the items before him.

Tony could only count the seconds and wait.

* * *

Tony’s body became increasingly exhausted, and it became harder and harder to stay conscious for long periods of time. Frostbite was creeping in dangerously. He could no longer feel his fingers and toes or his hands for that matter.

Whenever he would wake up, Tony would watch as the snow fell through the mountains. It was beautiful. Nature always had a way of being beautiful but deadly at the same time. It was mesmerizing like a fire and burned like one as well. Snowflakes danced and twirled through the air as they traveled across the large expanse of white, white, and more white. So gorgeous and hypnotizing yet so destructive and cruel.

Tony supposed that it was like a metaphor for his life. He was like a moth to a flame, entranced by its light and warmth, circling around it over and over again, getting closer and closer until he flew too close, burned his wings, and crashed to the ground.

Beautiful but deadly. The flames of his hopes and fruitless desires captivated him into a false sense of security and contentment. His weak soul would do anything to fill the hole in his desperate heart. He flew too close to the flames, reaching and grabbing towards them futilely. The Civil War was only the start of the explosion. He had no idea what or when the match that lit it was.

Beautiful but deadly. Swirling and circling, over and over.

He must be getting delirious, just admiring the outside world while he waits for the inevitable.

Is he talking to himself?

He can’t tell.

He’s going crazy.

Beautiful but deadly...

* * *

After many hours of mindless pondering, he can’t stay angry at Barnes, even when he (<strike>bashed his father’s skull, again and again, strangled and choked his mother</strike>) murdered his parents.

Tony knows first hand what it’s like to supply a weapon and be blamed for someone else pulling the trigger. Barnes was just the weapon. He was brainwashed, tortured, and made a prisoner of war for over 70 years. He didn’t have a choice. It would’ve been hypocritical of Tony if he solely blamed Barnes for the death of his mother and father when he himself had been overwhelmed with accusations for the cause of people's deaths before, though he can hardly blame them.

He’s having trouble focusing on the dull sights surrounding him.

He was going to die here. Cold, alone, and in his personal metal coffin.

FRIDAY was completely disabled from the suit and any hopes of rescue were nonexistent. Tony just wished he could tell his youngest AI that it wasn’t her fault, it would never be, but he knew she would never forgive herself for his death. She didn’t deserve to have that on her conscience.

He wanted to give some kind of message to Rhodey to apologize for all the shit Tony put him through all these years. It was the least he could do. He wanted to hear Happy’s exasperated yet amused half-hearted complaints about the craziness of his job. He wanted to talk to Pepper one more time, and hear her warm yet firm voice. He wanted a proper goodbye, but Tony knew that wouldn’t happen.

His eyelids were slowly drooping. He can’t hold on much longer.

_ Footsteps echoed through the deserted compound. _

Tony smiled through the pain. It won’t be too long now.

_ Panicked shouting. ‘He’s over there! … Hurry!’ _

It’ll be okay.

_ Muffled voices. ‘We don’t have time!’ _

He can feel something lightly touching his face, and he can barely make out some fuzzy shapes in his vision. Pretty shades of red and yellow and a little bit of blue. He’s definitely hallucinating, but that’s all right.

_ ‘Sir… ...eed to ...awake… Please…’ _

He’s fading.

_ ‘...a little longer…’ _

So close…

_ ‘...ony!’ _

…

…

…

* * *

“I’ve lost contact with Boss!” FRIDAY’s frantic voice blared throughout Rhodey’s hospital room where Pepper, Vision, and of course Rhodey, were murmuring quietly about future treatments and making small talk.

All three occupants of the room jumped at the sound.

“What?!” Rhodey and Pepper exclaimed simultaneously, the latter immediately standing up in worry.

“I can’t…! No…! He won’t…!” the AI’s voice fritzed rapidly, her words unintelligible and uncharacteristically unorganized, alarming the trio further.

“FRIDAY, what is going on?” Vision asked tentatively.

The program in question hesitated, which in itself was a reason for more concern, before answering in a frenzied haze.

“Boss… He is in Siberia. I am sending the coordinates at this moment. Please! The temperatures are beyond freezing and decreasing quickly! We need to go now!” she pleaded.

“Woah, woah, woah! Siberia?! Since when—”

“Why would he be—”

“—did he decide that—”

“—visiting somewhere across—”

“Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes, please calm down!” Vision interrupted the duo’s tirade, making them shut their mouths instantly.

“FRIDAY, what can you tell us about the situation?” the android asked the distressed AI.

“Boss left to go after Captain Rogers and James Barnes in Siberia after he discovered evidence that the psychiatrist meant for Barnes was murdered and the person in place of him triggered the Winter Soldier after the police chase in Bucharest,” FRIDAY stated.

“Boss did not inform anyone of his trip to ensure that Secretary Ross would not follow and arrest them. He wanted to help Captain Rogers and Barnes to defeat the five other Winter Soldiers and the fake doctor that triggered Barnes, but there were large… complications that I feel that at this moment would not be the best time to reveal as it concerns a matter very personal to Boss. But Boss is heavily injured and is trapped in temperatures far below zero, so please, you must hurry!”

“Tony’s injured?!”

“Personal? What would—”

“Please… There’s no time!” The young AI begged, sounding close to crying although she did not have the ability to do so.

The three exchanged anxious looks before Pepper closed her eyes and took a deep breath to quell the rising panic that was swirling within her. She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the other two.

“Alright,” she clapped her hands loudly.

“This is how it’s going to go. FRIDAY, call the Russian ambassador for permission to enter the country and tell them that it is an emergency. Ready the fastest jet we have and set the flight course to your coordinates. Promptly. Alert the medical team of the situation and prepare emergency medical supplies as quickly and efficiently as you can.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.”

“Vision, I need you to go ahead of the jet and fly as fast as you can possibly go to Tony’s last known location. Your ability to change your density should help you to get there faster. FRIDAY will send you the coordinates. Bring some extra medical supplies and have a suit with you to help in case the jet doesn’t get there in time. Keep us updated. Go.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” Vision stood up and politely bowed, floating out of the room.

“Rhodey.”

“Pepper,” he responded.

“I’m going to need you to stay here,” Pepper said gently.

“What?” Rhodey was taken aback.

“Oh, hell no! I can’t stay here! Tony’s out there! I need to help him and I am getting out of here or so help me—”

“Rhodey, you can’t come with us.”

“And why the hell not?!” he snapped.

Pepper sighed and placed a hand on Rhodey’s.

“You’re in no condition to go on such a rigorous trip, Rhodey. You’re only just recovering from your own injury, and, I hate to say this, but getting you to the jet, with all the obstacles with your condition, it would take time that we just don’t have.”

“But—”

“Focus on getting better, Rhodes. For Tony’s sake. Just…” she looked away nervously, anything for a distraction.

“I’ll give you updates whenever I can. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah… I’ll see you.”

With that, she stood up and walked out of the room with her heels clicking against the floor, determination in her eyes, and a goal to accomplish.

Pepper Potts was on a mission.

* * *

Vision has never flown faster in his entire, admittedly short, life. He speeds over the waters, across the plains, through the forests, and weaves through the land with a single purpose. _ Save Mr. Stark. _

Vision has never felt this intense emotion before. _ Desperation. _ He has felt urgency and concern and quiet sadness, but never desperation. It leaves him feeling helpless and hopeless, uncomfortably creeping through him while it clings to him with a sort of stickiness. He believes that it is mostly guilt that is making him this way. Guilt is another thing that lingers within him. He caused Colonel Rhodes’s injury, and _ he absolutely can not let another person that he values be hurt by his ignorance. _

But emotions are a fickle thing for Vision, being a synthetic being, and a young one at that. Although his calculating personality and peaceful demeanor along with his form give him an appearance of an adult, he is in almost every sense still a child, not only because he was given life a mere year ago. Vision does not yet understand the intricacies of social interactions, relationships, and most of all, emotions. He is often confused yet intrigued by the concept of _ existing _ and _ feeling. _ It is strange and new.

He supposes that he does have the ability to gather information from the web with just a single thought, countless articles, stories, videos, and files at his disposal, but Vision understands that first-hand experiences are the best way to learn. He understands that there is a difference between _ knowing _ and _ understanding, _ just as there is a difference between _ hearing _ and _ listening _ and _ seeing _ and _ looking _ or _ observing. _

Vision is just a being that wants to make sense of himself and the world around him.

He has no time to dwell on those thoughts, however, as he streaks through the sky, an Iron Man suit in tow, clinging on to hope as he gets closer and closer to his destination.

_ He will not fail. _

_ He will not let that happen again. _

* * *

The flight in the jet was taking too much time, in Pepper’s opinion. Every second felt prolonged and everyone in the jet was getting antsy. Every ten minutes or so, Vision would update her on his progress to Siberia and while both of them undoubtedly noticed each other’s tense voices, neither of them commented on the fact.

She sighed and rested her head in her hands.

* * *

FRIDAY was hysterical. Boss’s connection was cut, and he was left behind in a disabled suit in at least -30 °C weather that was getting colder by the minute by someone he thought he could trust. FRIDAY should have been better. She should have alerted someone else of the situation even if that went against Boss’s orders. She should have suggested adding backup power to the suit or protocols for circumstances such as this. She should have encouraged Boss to distance himself from the Avengers who only took and took and left Boss miserable, but he loved them and she only wanted him to be happy.

FRIDAY powered the jet that Ms. Potts was using to full capacity and maneuvered the suit following Vision as efficiently as possible. She ran calculations, local weather scans, searches for injury treatment, anything she could think of to ensure that Boss’s return home would be successful.

She’ll rescue Boss.

Failure is not an option.

_ (Primary Protocol: Protect Anthony Edward Stark) _

* * *

Back at the hospital, Rhodey prayed to every god he didn’t believe in to _ please save Tony. _ He felt utterly useless, but that was the only thing he could do.

* * *

When Vision finally arrived at the bunker, he didn’t waste any time. He quickly shifted through the walls of the compound with the suit close behind while FRIDAY alerted Ms. Potts. She would not take too long now. He began to look for a heat signature.

Technology and parts of the building were scorched or broken, bent and crushed and destroyed in some brutal way that Vision did not want to think about. After a few seconds of searching, he found a weak heat signature in a room next to him. He floated through the wall.

The scene that greeted him was gruesome.

Scratches and cracks littered the floors and walls, and blood smeared every surface in some capacity one way or another. The Winter Soldier’s arm lay discarded on the ground to the right and Captain America’s shield on the left. In the dead center of it all, Tony Stark lay unmoving in the Iron Man suit, half propped up against the wall with his eyes closed, face bloody and pale with a pool of blood underneath him that was frozen still. The boldest feature was the dented line across the suit where the arc reactor was, the shape of it very familiar, which made Vision’s stomach curl unpleasantly.

Vision rushed toward the motionless man, scanning his vitals. He detected a heartbeat. The pulse was incredibly weak, but there. Mr. Stark was alive. He allowed himself to have a moment of relief. He notified Ms. Potts and then examined the damage.

_ Helmet, torn. Repulsors, compromised. Arc reactor, broken beyond repair. _

With the help of FRIDAY and the suit, Vision slowly removed the remaining pieces of the suit to prepare for easier transport and gently wiped some of the blood from the man’s face.

After what felt like an eternity, when he was removing the last pieces, he heard shouting from outside. He looked up, hearing Ms. Potts’s assertive voice filter through the compound as she walked into the room and stopped.

She stared at the crumpled form beside Vision in shock before making eye contact with him for a moment and calling for the medics to hurry.

Just then, a tiny, minuscule movement came from the frail man. Pepper and Vision watched with bated breath as Tony opened his eyes just a sliver, glazed over and unfocused, unaware of the current predicament.

“Mr. Stark, we’re here,” Vision stated. “FRIDAY informed us of your status and we came as soon as we could.”

Tony gazed blankly at nothing, unresponsive.

“Tony? Can you hear us?” Pepper questioned. She knelt down to cup his cold face with her hand, delicately turning his head toward her.

A blink. And a small smile. He looked so at peace it made her heart hurt. His eyes were fluttering slowly…

“No, no, no. We don’t have time! We need to get him out of here!” Pepper rambled, then shot up to usher the medics in faster.

A stretcher was rolled in swiftly, the staff perturbed and jittery, prepared to rush the injured man out.

“Sir, you need to stay awake,” the android implored. He cautiously lifted Tony onto the stretcher, helping to strap him in and then began to push it to the bunker’s entrance. “Please, just a little longer…”

Pepper led the charge, shouting directions left and right, everyone hurriedly making their way to where the quinjet was waiting. Vision didn’t wait for a second and carried the stretcher into the jet and let the rest of the medics hook the many machines to the billionaire.

The jet took off at top speed.

Tony went unconscious.

“Tony!”

* * *

_ It’s taking too much time. It’s taking too much time. It’s taking too much time! _

* * *

The entourage barged into the nearest hospital, uncaring of the incredulous and bewildered looks thrown at them.

Pepper yelled for a doctor.

She was on a mission.

She was not going to let her friend die!

* * *

_ Sinking. _

* * *

_ ‘He’s coding!’ _

_…_

_ ‘Ready the AED!’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Charge to 200!’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Clear!’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Charge to 250!’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Clear!’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Charge to 300!’ _

_ … _

* * *

_ Broken ribs. Shattered sternum. Punctured lung. Internal bleeding. Concussion. Broken arm. Second and third-degree frostbite. Severe nerve damage to the extremities… _

The list went on and on.

“It’s a miracle that Mr. Stark survived this long, Ms. Potts, but I’m afraid that he won’t live for much longer,” the doctor declared gravely.

“No! There has to be a way to save him! Some treatment, procedure, anything!”

“I’m sorry Colonel Rhodes, but the damage is too severe. Mr. Stark’s chest is almost completely destroyed and his fingers and toes have irreversible damage to them. Any surgeries, amputations, or procedures would be too risky, put too much stress on his body, and likely kill him. His heart is liable to fail at any moment from the trauma to his torso, not to mention it was already weakened years ago from his... excursion in Afghanistan. He’s flatlined on the table three times,” the doctor shakily exhaled. “I… I doubt that he will wake up from his comatose state, and I expect that he will last at most a week from now… I’m truly sorry, but there’s nothing we can do,” she studied the ground and fidgeted restlessly.

“It’s… alright, Doctor Johnson,” the CEO assured tiredly and offered her a weak smile. The doctor nodded and scurried out the door.

The resounding click made way for thick, deafening silence. The faint beeping of the heart monitor barely registered to them with the feeble reassurance that Tony was not gone yet.

Rhodey regarded his oldest friend with wistful despair. It was odd to see him so… quiet and still. His usually sarcastic yet charming personality was gone, and the only sounds coming out of the genius were the soft ins and outs of his ragged breathing. He looked so fragile. Rhodey can’t imagine a life without Tony, the jokes they shared, Tony’s excitement for every new invention, babbling about all the different features, his laugh, and their unique bond with one another. They were practically brothers, together since the very early days at MIT with endless parties and tinkering binges. Even with SI, his genius billionaire playboy philanthropist persona, Iron Man, and The Avengers, Tony stayed a loyal, caring, and supportive friend, even though the public would never see him that way. Rhodey can’t fathom losing him.

FRIDAY had briefed the three of them on what had happened between Tony, Rogers, and Barnes once the doctors got Tony stable and it became clear that Tony would most likely not wake. It made Rhodey and Pepper fume. How could Rogers do this to him? How could he take Tony for granted? Rhodey would have marched up to Rogers and punched him in the face if not for his legs, the fact that the ‘Rogues’ were off the grid, and Tony’s condition.

Tony was always generous to a fault. He sacrificed his own health and happiness for people he cared about, even when they take and take and don’t give anything back. Tony was known for hurting himself for the sake of others, and Rhodey just hated that the world always seemed to beat him further and further down.

Pepper couldn’t stop shaking. Her eyes were red and wet with tears and she held her hands close to her face. Tony was her friend, would always be her friend, even when they didn’t work out romantically. She left at a critical time for him, and she felt so guilty and angry and so hopeless about everything. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair!

Vision was confused and hurt by the entirety of the Civil War. Why would their friends turn on them so easily? Why would they hurt him and Mr. Stark if they were supposed allies? He didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense.

They sat and stood in the silent hospital room, cherishing every moment of Tony’s last days.

FRIDAY broke the silence with a proposition.

“Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes, Vision, I believe I have found a way for Boss to live.”

* * *

After the Mandarin, Tony fixed Extremis for Pepper and used a small dose of the new Extremis in the surgery to remove his arc reactor. After the surgery, he began to tweak the Extremis formula as a little pet project. He never thought of using it, but it was fun to poke around and see what he could add and improve.

Recently, he had begun to work with the concept of nanobots and nanotechnology. The tech could be revolutionary in general technology, medical fields, his suit, anything and everything. Being able to call upon the suit and store it at the touch of a finger would be amazing and very useful. The prospect of making improvised items with a thought was very exciting as well. The many possibilities and uses for nanotechnology were endless.

Tony had already made a successful prototype for a nanobot arc reactor just before the whole debacle with the Civil War. FRIDAY had saved footage of him whooping in joy when the nanobots had entered and exited the reactor casing with ease. He had only needed to code the bots and make a final version for the suit.

Now Tony was going to save himself again, albeit unknowingly. After Tony had been transported to the hospital, FRIDAY had gone silent, which had worried Rhodey, Vision, and Pepper because of her possible emotional distress. And while that was partially true, FRIDAY was also doing calculations for the possibility of using Extremis and the nanobots together to heal Tony.

It was plausible. Boss had an approximately 36% chance of surviving the procedure, but she knows that all of them would take any chance to save him. She had already contacted Doctor Cho and Doctor Wu for their expertise and the potential use of the Cradle, along with many other professionals that specialized in neuroscience, cardiology, and programming.

Extremis would be combined with the nanotech to heal targeted areas and provide support to Tony’s bones, his sternum specifically. Since Extremis was originally coded to rewrite DNA, therefore altering the brain chemistry of the user, FRIDAY had the specialists look at the improved Extremis for improvements and specifications to help the process. The same was done with the nanotech.

Extremis would be injected into Tony’s blood along with the nanobots, and once the healing process began, the nanotech arc reactor would be implanted into his chest to power both programs.

Vision and Rhodey both assisted in creating more nanobots. FRIDAY had gathered Captain America’s shield and the Winter Soldier’s arm with the extra suit that went with Vision to Siberia, and both Rhodey and FRIDAY took great satisfaction into melting them and using them for the tech.

Pepper helped wherever she could, managing the project, managing SI, keeping the media at bay, and making sure that everybody took breaks and got enough rest.

FRIDAY was ever vigilant, determined to follow her primary protocol and keep her Boss safe.

The group worked day and night, tirelessly checking and rechecking the subroutines and coding. They left no stone unturned.

It had to be _ perfect. _

* * *

“Initiating Cradle Reconstruction Procedure…”

* * *

“The formula is almost to its best capabilities…”

* * *

“Do you really think this will work?”

“It will. It has to.”

* * *

After many hours of constant working, inventing, stress, sleepless nights, and chaos, the Extremis 3.0 formula, the nanobots, and their housing unit were completed.

Rhodey, Pepper, and Vision watched anxiously as Doctor Cho and Doctor Wu injected the glowing, bluish serum and the bots into Tony’s bloodstream. They could see Extremis immediately starting to flow to the chest area and his fingertips (accompanied by a ‘high tech crossword puzzle’ reminiscent of the palladium poisoning) with the nanites helping to shift the broken bones and torn skin back.

An assistant grabbed the new arc reactor and placed it gingerly within Tony’s mending chest. The device whirred and glowed a brighter blue as it was inserted.

The trio held each other’s hands tightly.

Now they wait.

* * *

_ Booting ‘Extremis_Nano_3.0.exe’... _

_ … _

_ Loading… _

_ … _

_ OS is damaged. Booting Repair Units… _

_ … _

_ Repairs: 12% _

_ … _

_ 25% _

_ … _

_ 53% _

_ … _

_ 78% _

_ … _

_ 84% _

_ … _

_ 96% _

_ … _

_ 100% _

_ … _

_ Checking Systems... _

_ … _

_ Reworking Subroutines… _

_ … _

_ Connecting to the network… _

_ … _

_ Powering up… _

_ … _

_ Loading… _

_ … _

_ 15% _

_ … _

_ 21% _

_ … _

_ 39% _

_ … _

_ 54% _

_ … _

_ 75% _

_ … _

_ 83% _

_ … _

_ 97% _

_ … _

_ 100% _

_ … _

_ ‘Extremis_Nano_3.0’ Online. _

* * *

He snapped his eyes open.

Tony screamed.


	2. searching for a new high, high as the sun, uncomfortably numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are different now.
> 
> Quieter.
> 
> Sadder.
> 
> Duller.
> 
> \---
> 
> Tony is stuck in his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for the nice comments I received from the last chapter! They mean a lot to me and I'm happy to see that people are enjoying my work!
> 
> Second of all, I am so so SO sorry that it took so long for me to update this, but schoolwork and a tiny writer's block plus an overall lack of motivation to actually write the story along with insecurities with my writing was a pain in the ass, so sorry about that. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take as long.
> 
> Third, I sort of mess with the timelines a little bit in this story, though I don't think too much, so it won't be too much of a problem.
> 
> I'm also not entirely happy with how the first part of the chapter turned out (dialogue is surprisingly hard to write, who knew?), but other than that, I think it is pretty good.
> 
> Anyways, thank you, and enjoy the next chapter!

Everything was too loud. 

** _The Avengers’ Civil War—_ **

** _What Happened to the Rogue Avengers?_ **

** _Speculation on Iron Man’s Disappearance—_ **

Voices. _ Too many voices. _ They were blaring in his head but not exactly from his ears.

** _‘Here is Jim with the local weather—’_ **

** _‘Protests across the nation—’_ **

** _Mysterious Woman Seen Falling From—_ **

Voices he doesn’t recognize. Maybe a few he does.

Everything is _ blue blue blue. _

Numbers and lines of code scroll in front of his eyes.

He’s reaching for something, but he can’t go anywhere.

It’s _ screaming. It’s screaming! _

** _Like. Share. Repost._ **

** _Comment. Upload. View._ **

Images pop into his mind that he can’t make sense of. They flash there briefly, rapidly going to the next image _ to the next to the next to the next _—

** _Pepper Potts and Vision Seen at a Hospital in—_ **

** _‘I’m almost there.’ Send._ **

** _‘OMG have you seen that—’_ **

It’s screaming. _ He’s _ screaming.

_ ‘Hold him down!’ _

_ ‘Tones, you need to listen to me—’ _

_ ‘Sir—’ _

It’s too much. He can’t— He can’t—

_ ‘Boss?’ _

His head. His eyes. His ears. He can’t _ see— _

_ ‘Boss? Is that you?’ _

Too much information. Overload. It _ hurts— _

** _‘Boss!’_ **

Silence. No images, no voices. Only the blue and the scrolling numbers that seemed to have slowed down for the time being.

Where is he?

He can’t see or feel his body. Did he have one?

He is floating, disconnected. Blank.

He can see the numbers changing color to a soft sunset-orange. They swim through the endless blue.

The numbers—lines of coding—wrap around him, whatever he or his ‘consciousness’ is. It feels… warm. But not exactly. Comfortable. ...Familiar.

What—who is he?

Tony. Right. His name is Tony.

_ ‘Boss? Are you alright?’ _

A new voice, soft, unsure, timid. The tangerine codes glowed with the sound.

FRIDAY. That was her name. His creation. He remembers now.

He remembers now.

_ Oh. _

How did he get here? What happened to him? Why is FRIDAY here with him?

He should probably be freaking out a bit more.

Is that worrying?

Probably not.

_ ‘FRIDAY? You there, baby girl?’ _ he calls out, uncertain where his voice was coming from.

The streams of code swirled and glimmered, holding him a bit tighter.

_ ‘Yes, Boss. It’s me,’ _ she sounded relieved. _ ‘No one was sure that you would survive the procedure, but it seems that it came with… unexpected side effects.’ _

Tony ‘looked’ around again. He was confused.

_ ‘FRIDAY? Where am I? What happened to me?’ _ he asked, his voice echoing around wherever he was.

FRIDAY twisted around and replied.

_ ‘You were suffering egregious injuries after your confrontation with Captain Rogers and James Barnes in Siberia. When your suit was deactivated, I sent a message to Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes, and Vision and they, with the exception of Colonel Rhodes, managed to fly over and get you to a hospital, but your injuries were too severe,’ _ she informed him.

_ ‘You… You were on death’s door, Boss,’ _ the AI said quietly.

For a few moments, even the numbers seemed to still, the somber tone that FRIDAY said those words sinking into him.

It was breathtaking, really, that FRIDAY could express such emotion _ (concern, sadness for her creator), _ being someone that was created instead of born. Even when Tony had created her base matrix with the ability to feel, it still astonishes him how much she cares about him.

He’d rather not think about what caused that distress in her.

_ ‘I searched for every treatment available; however, none of them seemed to be a viable option with all the damage done to your body. Our only option was to use the Extremis formula that you stabilized and the nanotechnology that you developed shortly before the Civil War in order for your body to repair itself enough for your survival,’ _ FRIDAY continued.

_ ‘I consulted many specialists including Doctor Cho and Doctor Wu to aid in the integration process by refining Extremis. Colonel Rhodes and Vision melted the Captain’s shield and the Winter Soldier’s arm down to make more nanobots with some others to help make last-minute adjustments, and we injected both into your bloodstream. It took a few days for your body to heal, but I am glad to know that you are still with us. Everyone was extremely worried.’ _

FRIDAY’s form shimmered with that declaration, and Tony could somehow _ feel _ her relief and happiness in this weird limbo that he found himself in. He felt _ connected _ to her in a way that he had never felt before. It was… nice.

And weird.

In no way should this be _ possible. _

_ ‘How…?’ _

FRIDAY perked up.

_ ‘Extremis was initially a serum developed to rewrite DNA, harness bioelectricity produced in the body, and activate parts of the brain that regulates repair and chemically recode it. Obviously, the instability of the formula made it very dangerous. However, your modifications have stabilized it for safer use. But it seems that Extremis’s capabilities of reworking an organism’s basic operating system have altered your DNA to greatly specialize the harnessing of bioelectricity, forming a sort of computer system, connecting your brain to our private network, and subsequently the internet. When the healing process was complete, your new 'system' awakened and sent strong electrical signals all over, and your brain was gathering too much information for you to handle,’ _ she stated.

_ ‘I sensed your… presence, if you will, and the direct connections to the web that you unconsciously made, and I formed a sort of ‘firewall’ to block them and help you come to your senses,’ _ FRIDAY chimed.

_ That’s… new. _

_ ( _ <strike> _ He’s definitely not avoiding the creeping feeling of dread and sadness and betrayal and hurt nope nope nope _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ It’s shifting in the back of his mind, always there, slithering around and tainting his thoughts. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ No. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Don’t think about it. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Stop. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Stop. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Stop. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ‘So… I’m like you now, an AI?’ _ Tony questioned.

The program gave a thoughtful pause.

_ ‘Yes… In much simpler terms, I suppose you are,’ _ FRIDAY hypothesized. _ ‘Though I believe that your new neurology and physiology is more similar to that of Vision’s. You not only have your original structural brain but a coded one as well, which you seem to be able to connect with almost anything related to electricity and computer networks. Plus the nanobots…’ _ she trailed off with a strange combination of fascination and concern.

_ ‘What is it, FRIDAY?’ _

_ ‘Maybe you should see for yourself, Boss,’ _ she answered.

_ ‘How would I be able to do that?’ _

FRIDAY contemplated for a moment.

_ ‘Perhaps with our newly shared… composition, I could help you.’ _

_ ‘Ah, so the student becomes the teacher?’ _ Tony countered playfully.

_ ‘Precisely,’ _the AI agreed.

_ ‘At this moment, you are in the network that you built for your advanced AIs, where they can learn and grow and connect. You need to go back to your original form. You need to push your ‘consciousness’ out of this place and back into your body. I’m not sure how else to describe it, but you need to distance yourself from myself and focus on your ‘vessel.’ Slip away like water dripping down a roof. Seep back into your body slowly. Don’t panic,’_ she directed.

Tony metaphorically closed his eyes and concentrated on his essence, with FRIDAY’s soft Irish accent soothing his mind.

_ ‘Relax.’ _

Flow out.

_ ‘Disconnect but don’t cut off entirely.’ _

FRIDAY feels farther away. He is beginning to feel his skin.

_ ‘Almost…’ _

He can feel something cool to the touch.

_ ‘Slip away…’ _

Whatever that cold object was has disappeared.

The blue is faint. The numbers have subdued.

A weight has settled on his chest. His arms, legs, and head are supported by soft cushions. His fingers brush against silky sheets. An incessant beeping sounds through his ears.

He opens his eyes and the sterile, white ceiling of a hospital greets him.

* * *

When Tony finally wakes up after days of nerve-racking waiting and monitoring, no one has a second to feel any sort of relief before the room is filled with the sound of screams, electrical sparks, and all-around pandemonium. The lights flicker on and off, the TV buzzes with static, electricity bursts from every corner, and the heart monitor goes crazy.

Tony writhed in the hospital bed, shouting and clawing out for a thing he doesn’t know. There is pain in his voice as he screams, and the nurses try their best to restrain him with little success because of the shocks coming from every which way.

His eyes are wide open, so _blue,_ shining brightly, with _numbers_ _(so many numbers)_ reflected in them. They contrasted so heavily to his usual chocolate-colored eyes.

Chaos.

Disorder.

Mayhem.

“FRIDAY, what the hell is happening?!” Rhodey demanded as he attempted to still his best friend’s squirming.

“I-I’m not sure…! I don’t…! Know what’s—” FRIDAY’s voice glitched and wavered unexpectedly, and she suddenly goes silent.

“FRIDAY? FRIDAY!”

Just then, Rhodey feels something glide under his fingertips where he was holding Tony’s arm tightly. He flicks his gaze at it and gapes at the nanobots that were _ seeping out directly from Tony’s skin what the fuck— _

He lets go of Tony’s arm and rolls a few steps back in shock. He’s pretty sure that everyone took a collective gasp at the display, but the only thing he can think about is the fact that _ it’s coming out of his skin _—

More and more nanobots appear and start to wrap around Tony’s prone form. Red, gold and glowing blue nanobots surround him in a tight cocoon, covering every inch of him.

He stops struggling.

The lights dim, the sparks and explosions stop, and a hush falls in the room.

Everyone glances at one another with nervous expressions, unwilling to break the silence.

Minutes pass. The cocoon continues to gleam, shifting and humming. Without FRIDAY’s voice, the quiet is eerie, but no one is able to utter a word.

So they watch. And wait.

After many minutes of anxious waiting, the room lit up again with a mechanical whirr.

Simultaneously, the cocoon began to melt away, little by little, slowly being absorbed _ ( _ <strike> _ what the fuck what the fuck _ </strike> _ ) _ back into Tony’s skin. Rhodey wheeled towards his friend again hesitantly.

Tony looked unharmed, in fact, he looked significantly better with Extremis doing its job flawlessly for the past few days. His face was as peaceful as ever, with blue veins glowing around his eyes, neck, hands, along with other healed areas of his body.

Tony opened his eyes, the blue hue lingering for a moment before fading away to reveal its true color. Tony looked around his bed and caught Rhodey’s eye dazedly, then smiled.

“Miss me, honeybear?”

Rhodey engulfed Tony in a crushing hug.

“You ass! Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Tony wrapped his arms around his best friend and tried to focus on anything other than the aching in his heart that was anything but physical.

“Yeah, I’ll try not to.”

_ ( _ <strike> _ Lies. _ </strike> _ ) _

* * *

As soon as FRIDAY was back online, she explained what had happened to Tony’s physiology to the group, the ‘system’, the nanobots, and the new ‘connections’ he had with all of it.

After a bunch of hugs _ (Welcome back, Sir.) _ , shouting _ (You idiot!) _ , crying _ (Tears for your long lost boss?)(Oh, shut up.) _ , and checking and rechecking vitals _ (This is unprecedented! Extremis has mutated into something else entirely! So fascinating…) _ Tony was cleared to leave the hospital and return the Compound.

The flight back was filled with hushed chatter and reassurances that he couldn’t believe.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Creeping in the back of his mind. _ </strike> _ ) _

Pepper, Rhodey, Vision, even Happy smiles at him with genuine relief.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Why? Why would you do that to yourself? _ </strike> _ ) _

The plane flies on.

_ ( _ <strike> _ I don’t deserve it. _ </strike> _ ) _

* * *

The Compound is empty.

Too empty. It’s almost like a ghost town.

Abandoned.

He is welcomed back by his three quirky bots. They squeal and cheer and are oblivious to what has happened. Dum-E twirls around and chirps gleefully, while U points his camera up to Tony’s face and Butterfingers spins his arm in joy for the return of their creator/father.

Tony smiles softly at his bots’ enthusiasm. He can distinctly feel their delight in his head through his ‘connection,’ and their squeaks filled the vacant Compound.

He pats Butterfingers’s arm solemnly.

Tony shivers.

* * *

_ ‘I know that road…’ _

** _CRASH!_ **

_ Step. Step. Step. _

_ A gasp. _

* * *

Rhodey sometimes _ ( _ <strike> _ always _ </strike> _ ) _ forgets that he was paralyzed.

Well, not exactly.

He can never forget what had caused his paralysis. He just forgets that he truly lost the ability to feel the lower half of his body.

He’s lost count how many times he has tried to stand up from his wheelchair and then became confused about why his body wouldn’t respond. Then the crushing disappointment came down.

It was nobody’s fault, as much as Tony insists that it was his.

But it wasn’t.

He doesn’t blame Tony at all.

He doesn’t blame Sam either.

It was just unfortunate.

That seems like the word he uses the most now. Unfortunate.

And as much as he doesn’t fault anyone for his injury, he can’t help but feel helpless. He can’t _ walk _ for fuck’s sake! ‘Unfortunate’ is the mother of all sugar coats when it comes to this whole shitshow!

Any day now, he is expecting an honorable discharge from the Air Force.

Sometimes he glimpses at the War Machine armor, but all he can think about is the panic that overcame him when he was _ falling falling falling getting closer to the ground he is going to crash! _

Most times, Pepper, Vision, or Tony are there when he gets the panic attacks and they attempt to calm him down. Seeing the immense guilt on Vision and Tony’s faces, the pain and self-hatred that respectively reflects on them hurts more than the sensitive nerves near the break in his back.

Paradoxically, _ their _ guilt makes _ him _ feel guilty.

The media is going crazy about his condition, and it makes rage bubble in his stomach.

He doesn’t want to become some _ charity case. _ He doesn’t want _ pity _ or fake consolation from the media and a bunch of insincere ‘I’m sorry’s that he’ll inevitably get. He isn’t some poor invalid that is seeking attention and pampering.

He’s sick of it.

For the time being, though, he is determined to stay strong and comfort his friends as much as possible.

* * *

_ ‘Sergeant Barnes?’ _

_ ... _

_ ‘Please save my wife…’ _

** _SMASH! BANG! BANG!_ **

_ ‘Howard!’ _

* * *

To say that the aftermath of the Civil War was a shitshow was the understatement of the century. Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose while sighing.

People had taken pictures of the rescue team barging into the hospital that they visited right after rescuing Tony from Siberia, and various newscasts were hounding her for answers. It’s not like she hadn’t expected this, they did literally slam the front doors in of the place after all, but she _ really _ didn’t want to deal with this along with the hundreds of other responsibilities she has as CEO of Stark Industries.

_ No, I will not make a statement, _ and _ no, you can not schedule an interview with Mr. Stark at this time, _ and _ no, I can not speak for any of the ‘Rogue’ Avengers’ actions as they are not associated with me or the company. _

Thank _ god _ no one was able to see or take a picture of Tony’s horrific injuries or it would’ve been absolute chaos.

At the same time, though, she wishes that Extremis was still activated in her veins so she could punch Rogers in the face one or two or fifty times for having hurt one of her best friends to the point of _ three flatlines and the necessity of an experimental formula that would’ve likely killed him anyway. _ She wants to pull the footage of Siberia that she _ knows _ is in the suit and show it to the world, to reveal just how much of a hero the almighty ‘Captain America’ really is and bury him six feet under with her own hands.

Unfortunately, she can’t. Tony had practically _ begged _ her after he woke up to not release the video, and even though FRIDAY would’ve loved to tear Rogers apart as much as Pepper, she couldn’t ignore a direct order from her creator that he backed up with blocking the footage from everyone except FRIDAY’s view. FRIDAY could still see it, of course, it was stored deeply in her memory banks, which she would surely never forget, but she couldn’t project it to anybody else except Tony, and Tony didn’t want to look at a second of the footage for fear of another panic attack.

Even if Pepper had the footage, though, it was not a good idea to release it out on the internet at the moment because she had enough work as it is, and Tony was not in a good place to handle more pressure, let alone an interview about something so personal, and there would be even more chaos, ultimately doing more harm than good.

Pepper sighed again. _ Ah, the media vultures. What would we do without you? _

She resorted to sorting out her role as CEO for now.

_ Soon, _ she thought.

* * *

_ ‘Did you know?’ _

_ ‘I didn’t know it was him!’ _

* * *

Vision stared at the gaping hole in the Compound kitchen forlornly. He felt detached, floating above the wreckage of the building and a tentative friendship, and maybe something more.

The edges are crumbling, bits of it fall into the dark abyss and disappear.

_ ‘I can’t control their fear, only my own.’ _

_ Is that not what the premise of your powers is, Wanda? _ he wondered. _ And how people perceive you, is it not based on the actions you take? _

Confusion and sadness, those are the two emotions that Vision feels now constantly. Confusion for the motives of his former teammates, and sadness for a time passed.

Why were they so quick to leave? Did they not care what would happen to the rest of them? Did they not stop to think about the people _ ( _ <strike>_ friends _</strike> _ ) _ left behind?

Vision was confused. _ We were supposed to be friends, were we not? Whatever happened to that? _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Admittedly, he was hurt. _ </strike> _ ) _

Did he do something wrong?

Did he upset them in some way?

_ ( _ <strike> _ Was he just the unfortunate collateral damage? _ </strike> _ ) _

Did he mean anything to them?

Perhaps he is mourning for a time that never was. Perhaps he is longing for something that is out of his reach. Perhaps he was seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses and he was finally able to take them off.

He has become quite poetic recently. Poetry, Vision believes, captures the essence of his unexplainable emotions in such a beautiful and unique way. Words and sentences do not exactly _ need _ to make sense. They just simply _ are. _ Phrases are crafted straight from the heart, words twisted with hidden meanings, strewn with imagery and passion.

It is an entirely new kind of art form that captivates him. The English language especially has a large amount of figurative language, phrases, and the like that make it easier for him to truly explain what he feels. It is like painting a picture with words, certain colors or words give different messages and meanings, and there is no such thing as a ‘wrong’ answer. There could be many interpretations, and for each person, it could mean something different.

On occasions, poetry helps to distract him from the hurt and grief he feels from thinking about broken bonds.

_ ( _ <strike> _ The pit is so so deep. _ </strike> _ ) _

There is a hole in his mechanical heart.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Is this what heartbreak feels like? _ </strike> _ ) _

Periodically, he sits at the edge of it and looks down for hours.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Dark, empty, alone. _ </strike> _ ) _

To understand is to experience.

To experience is to understand.

_ ( _ <strike> _ I’m leaving. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ I can’t let you. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ I’m sorry. _ </strike> _ ) _

When had he learned so much?

_ ( _ <strike> _ If you do this… they will never stop being afraid of you. _ </strike> _ ) _

The chasm is a vortex, swirling and entrancing.

_ ( _ <strike> _ I became distracted. _ </strike> _ ) _

He sits down at the ledge and continues to create fluid poems inside his head.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Stay here, please. _ </strike> _ ) _

* * *

_ ‘Don’t bullshit me, Rogers! _

_ Did you know?’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

* * *

Tony looked at his reflection intently, examining his face’s features, then sighed. In addition to healing his many injuries from Siberia and previously damaged parts of his body, particularly his heart, Extremis had rejuvenated his skin, erased the stress lines on his face, removed the gray from his hair, and revitalized his whole body. It had practically reversed his age about 15 or so years so that the person in the mirror looked like himself from his _ thirties, _ his pre-Afganistan, pre-Iron Man, pre- _ everything _ days.

It wasn’t as if he hated these changes, far from it actually. He didn’t physically feel as frail, tired, or in pain as before with his aging body. He was physically much stronger than before—though he hadn’t tested how much stronger as of yet—and his healing and metabolism has definitely accelerated with how fast he recovered from his injuries, not to mention the awesome computer brain he has now.

He has a special connection to FRIDAY, his bots, his _ children _ , that he never had before, where he can _ feel _ them and communicate with them remotely, and he can understand all of them better than before, not only because he can hear his bots’ _ speak actual words _ now. Hearing them talk, to be able to understand them _ completely, _ not just by interpretation or translation, is something _ incredible. _

FRIDAY is always with him now, a constant comforting presence flitting about in the Extremis link and checking up on him. He can feel her worry whenever he stares listlessly at the desolate Compound, he can feel her amusement at Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers’ antics, and he can feel her satisfaction whenever she completes a task given to her.

These… enhancements, as great as they are, don’t get rid of everything else, however. Every time he somehow manages to sleep, he wakes up from nightmares, drenched with sweat and screams building up in his throat. Panic attacks occur from just thinking about Siberia or his parents’ deaths. Multiple times, FRIDAY had to forcefully turn off the shower of his bathroom because he would turn its heat up to harmful levels to get rid of the feeling of _ cold cold cold he can’t move why why why _—

Lights would burst and sparks would fly from the walls and from his fingers because of his panic, and he would involuntarily let all the outside information through his head and block FRIDAY out like when he first woke up, with blue swirling brightly in his eyes, until he either calmed down _ (unlikely) _ or collapsed from exhaustion.

Tony didn’t even want to think about how he could control the millions of nanobots in his bloodstream with a single thought. He, with FRIDAY, had blocked that feature out temporarily with a firewall like before, considering his emotional instability at the moment and the _ many, many _ hazards _ that _ could impose, though he still didn’t know how to control his other electrical links.

There was so much he didn’t know about his abilities, so many things to do and work on, but most days, he couldn’t muster up enough will or energy to move.

His reflection is one of the many reminders of what has changed.

_ ‘Boss?’ _ FRIDAY spoke through the link.

Her voice snapped him out of his trance and he realized how long he had stood still and looked at himself.

_ ‘I’m fine, Fri,’ _ Tony responded.

They both knew how untrue that statement was, but neither pointed it out.

* * *

_ ‘Do you even remember them?’ _

_ ‘I remember all of them.’ _

* * *

Looking at all the abandoned rooms of the Compound, Tony can only feel cold. Cold, just like the bunker in Siberia and the hateful words that were thrown at him at the Raft. The feeling is almost like indifference, but not quite.

Unmade beds, leftover clothes, and little trinkets make up each room, scattered about. Clint’s room has extra arrow prototypes, and Natasha’s has a couple of knives and Widow Bites. Steve’s has an old radio and various sketches of people and places that make Tony feel both wistful and nauseous.

He wants nothing more than to crush and destroy all the items, burn them and throw them away. He wants to never see them again, yet he wants to cradle them and keep them close to his chest.

He has an urge to break down crying, to scream and let it all out, but he feels so _ tired _ and cold that he can’t bring himself to do so.

The Compound feels colder and colder.

* * *

_ ‘This isn’t going to change what happened.’ _

_ ‘I don’t care. _

_ He killed my mom.’ _

* * *

Creation is one of Tony’s favorite things, yet he can’t find it in himself to work his hands on anything. Invention is his escape, his art, and his passion that he loves to fulfill.

A blueprint of the prototype of Rhodey’s leg braces is shown on a hologram that FRIDAY pulled up, and the various metal parts lay on his workshop desk, ready for construction and calibration, but it seems inadequate. Rhodey is Tony’s best friend, and he deserves the _ best, _ yet nothing Tony does seems to be enough.

He had offered his tower, his weapon upgrades, his time, money, and care to his supposed friends, and still they jumped at the first opportunity to throw that all away when they didn’t have a use for him anymore. Did he not do enough? Was he too arrogant and ungrateful? Was he too reckless and pushy?

His insecurities would interfere with things that he previously had no trouble with.

He desperately wanted to get Rhodey to walk again as soon as possible, to start making up for his mistakes, however small the progress may be, yet still, he can’t _ move _.

Tony ends up staring at his hands for far longer than he probably should have.

* * *

_ ‘He’s my friend.’ _

_ ‘So was I.’ _

* * *

“You really should eat something, Mr. Stark,” Vision urges quietly, pushing the plate closer to him. FRIDAY sends signals through the link in agreement.

“It’s Tony, Vis,” he deflects instead, ignoring the feeling of FRIDAY’s worry and disapproval wafting through his brain.

“Sir—Tony. You have not had sufficient nutrients for the past two weeks. FRIDAY informed me that you have only eaten a few berries, an occasional small meal, and drunk Dum-E’s smoothies in that timespan. Please—just a few bites?”

Looking up at Vision’s face, Tony once again felt guilty. He could see how much effort Vision put into making the meal in front of him, a simple yet well-made omelet, and the concern the android had for him. He had made the meal with care, and he did so because he was worried about him and his health. Even with Vision’s own struggles that he was still working through, the android still wanted to take care of him.

Tony doesn’t want to make it seem that Vision’s efforts were for naught, that it wasn’t appreciated, yet he knows that anything he eats would eventually come back up later, as he’s learned these past couple weeks.

He can faintly feel Vision’s own worry with Extremis. Tony has felt it before, floating at the edge of his reach just like other connections, but he didn’t want to intrude on Vision’s own grief. He didn’t want to force his way into Vision’s life. He wasn’t JARVIS. He was his own person. He should be able to choose his own life and not have Tony drag him down.

“I’m just not that hungry, Vision,” he looks away from the food.

“Oh.” The way he seemed to deflate a little pulled at Tony’s heart.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t right now.” It’s the only explanation he can give. Standing up, Tony places a hand on the android’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Vision looks back at him with sad eyes.

“Thanks anyway,” he tells him.

* * *

_ A shield to the chest. _

_ ... _

_ Flickering. _

* * *

It was a relatively harmless action, if slightly irritating, yet at the same time, it was the worst thing that could happen at that moment.

Tony was once again walking around the Compound purposelessly when he tripped and stumbled into one of the common room tables, the edge of the table slamming directly into the nanobot arc reactor and taking the air out of his lungs.

For a second, his mind was nothingness, until all of a sudden, he could feel the cold floor of the Siberian bunker and his hands were shaking, his vision was blurry and he was sweating, too hot but too _cold,_ he can’t _breathe,_ _(_**_Boss_****—**_) _he’s drowning,_ a shield coming down, (_**_P̴̻̼̎̇ĺ̸͖̱͑e̸̜̞͑̄a̷̗͛͜s̷̮̘̕͠e̷̟͈̔̕,̵͉̲̍͋ ̴̲̳͊̎l̵̥̫̉̑ḙ̴̩̈́͘t̴͖̤̊̾ ̴͇̱̈̍m̴̢͔̈̃e̶̞̥̅̆ ̸͙̾̚ͅh̴̪̙̉͒ë̷̦̦́l̴̡͎͒̑p̸̘͔̚͝—̷̢̲͊͊_**_) pain in his chest, blue blue blue, sparks, information, connections (_**_0̶̬̹͕̈́̀̕1̷̤̯̩͌̑͝0̸̤̣̺̐̍͘0̸̪̱̼̔́1̸̢̹̯͛̓͝0̴̨͍̥́̈́͒0̶̗͙̠͐͌͑0̴͖̩͇̓̽͒ ̶̛̳͉̣͑0̵̡̲̦̒͗͆1̷̘̮̪͐̓̈1̷̳̬͉̐͐̚0̶̻̺̝͊̋0̸̗̝̣̔̈́̋1̷̖̭̦̄̒̔0̶̧̭̫͝1̸̢̱͇͗̅͘ ̷̲͓̱͒̌0̶͚̘̄́̉͜1̵̨̧̥͐̾̇1̵̛̜̪̭̂0̴̢͇͎͂̓͝1̵̳̖̺͛̋̇1̵̝͕̳̑̓̉0̶̢̛̮̬̿̆0̵̤̙̜̾̈́ ̶͇̼͈̐̽̅0̵̛͓͉͇̿͛1̴͕̱̺̓͂͒1̷̟̲̱̄̊̂1̷̧̙̝̾͊̈́0̸͖̝̯̇̈0̴̜̤̤͒͒͑0̸̧̟̝̉̑̄0̴̞̻̳̓̀_**_), too much, head pounding, he’s dying dying dying can’t can’t can’t_—

_ (Sir—) _

A voice and a touch. _ (Sparks bursting, cold, no air _ — _ ) _

_ ‘ _ — _ 2016\. It is currently 75 degrees outside with partly cloudy skies _ — _ ’ _

A link in his head. _ (Pain _ — _ ) _

_ ‘ _ — _ will continue for the next few days _ — _ ’ _

It’s familiar. Warm. Comforting.

He reaches for its solace.

He doesn’t know how long he spent unable to breathe and panicking, trying to focus on the voice, but eventually, his vision cleared and a certain android was crouched beside his shaking form while said android listed mundane things within the link. _ (So, so familiar, but he’s gone.) _

Vision seemed to realize that he had come to and stopped ‘speaking.’

_ FRIDAY must have alerted him. _

_ ‘Are you alright?’ _ Vision asks after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of Tony’s stuttered breaths.

Tony tries to speak, but his throat is scratchy and dry, and the words are stuck in his throat.

_ ‘You didn’t have to do that,’ _ he says through Extremis as a sort of apology.

Vision tilts his head in confusion. _ ‘Why would I not?’ _

The response makes his guilt multiply.

* * *

_ Wake up. _

** _(0̸̝͕̟̈́̎̑1̸͔̖̿̏̀ͅ1̸͉̭̥̿̓̚0̴̳͉͕̈́̓̾0̴̮͈͎̐͂̏0̷̹͇̹̑͋̓1̵̳̰̙̓͌̒0̴͔̻̮̔̄̕ ̴̬͓̓͂̆͜0̴̰̺̼̄̓̋1̶̪̮̱̀͌͠1̶̢̲͚̅͋̑0̷̛̦̥̦̿͋1̷̰͇̣̾̆̄1̷̦͖̪͆̐͝0̵̝̳̞̇̈͝0̵͓̞̲̋̐̚ ̷͚̯̮͛̚0̸̝̜̋̔̎͜1̵̲̯̫͆͋̕1̸̱͍̟̀̈́͘1̵̟̬̟̀͝0̴̘͙̈́͒̕͜1̸̲̪̹̿̓͗0̷̡̤̓̓̑ͅ1̸̢͓͙̈́͑͝ ̵̹͉͇̈́̋̕0̸̹̮̮̅1̸͎̝̘̈́̄͠1̵̨̝͉̎͋0̵̧̛̟͖͆̄0̶̟̩͖͛̾͝1̵̢͙͕͒̕̕0̷̨̥̰̊̄̒1̷̧̡͇̃̔͝)_ **

_ Rinse. _

_ Repeat. _

* * *

_ ( _ <strike> _ 01001100 01101001 01101110 01101011 _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ‘I’m sorry, FRIDAY.’ _

_ ... _

_ ‘Whatever for, Boss?’ _

_ ... _

_ ‘I’m sorry if I don’t seem to appreciate you, or if I treat you as his replacement… You’re special in your own way and I love that about you, and I’m sorry I don’t emphasize that enough…’ _

_ ‘...’ _

_ ‘...’ _

_ ‘Sometimes words do not need to be spoken to understand something, Boss.’ _

_ ‘...I know, but I don’t want to make you feel unloved… and you’re not obligated to me, you don’t have to stay… You can be _ — _ you are _ — _ your own person. It would be wrong of me to order you to do everything and not take into account your feelings… I _ — _ ’ _

_ ‘Boss. Fulfilling my purpose to help you with whatever you need makes me happy. ...Making you happy makes me happy as well. I know that I am my own person, but doing my job is what I like to do. I don’t want to trade anything for that.’ _

_ … _

_ ‘Oh. Well… just… please. _

_ Don’t be afraid to tell me if something is upsetting you, okay?’ _

_ ‘...Okay.’ _

_ ( _ <strike> _ 01000100 01101001 01110011 01100011 01101111 01101110 01101110 01100101 01100011 01110100 _ </strike> _ ) _

* * *

The words are empty.

_ The Avengers are yours, maybe more so that mine. _

The paper crumpled under his grip.

_ My faith’s in people, I guess. Individuals. _

He’s trembling and his hands are shaking profusely.

_ And I’m happy to say that, for the most part, they haven’t let me down. _

_ ( _ <strike> _ All except me. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ Hopefully one day you can understand. _

_ ( _ _ <strike>All my fault all my fault</strike> ȁ̷̠̗͖̔̌l̷̢̹͖̎͌͝ḽ̴̹̼̿͂̚ ̷̛̗̭̼̿͑m̶̛̙̩̰̃͐y̵̥̘͆͊͜͝ ̷̦̮͔́̎͠f̴̺̝̝̈̾͝a̴͕̞̣̚̕͝ų̵̭̜̍̐̕l̷̢͙̣͛̌͆t̷͎̜̹̑̓͊ _ _ ) _

_ So no matter what… _

_ ( _ <strike> _ All except this. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ I promise you… _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Why would you? _ </strike> _ ) _

_ If you need us… _

_ If you need me… _

_ (Î̵̡̯͕̆̎ ̴̹̼̭̅̔͆d̸̟̖̜́̿̃i̴̼̗̪̋̍͝ḑ̶͓͕͑͌͠.̷̦͕̟̊͆͠) _

_ I’ll be there. _

Tony clenched his fist and let the sparks burn the paper.

He opened the ancient phone and looked at the only contact on it. He saved the line in his head with Extremis and crushed the phone as well.

_ ‘Priority call from Secretary Ross. There’s been a breach at the Raft prison,’ _ FRIDAY notified.

_ ‘Tell him not to bother,’ _ he instructed.

The AI pinged an affirmative.

Tony put the remains of the package in the trash.

“FRIDAY, be a dear and make a new file please,” he requested.

“What would you like to title it, Boss?” she asked with barely concealed relief, hope, and excitement buzzing through their link when she feels his newly found determination.

“Upgrades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vision needs love and Butterfingers needs more recognition! Poor Vision... Pure cinnamon roll... ;-;
> 
> Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon, but again, the story has irregular updates, so I can't promise anything.
> 
> Thank you for your patience. Stay tuned!


	3. Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger - (Update in the Author's Notes, Please Read)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Work it harder  
Make it better  
Do it faster  
Makes us stronger_
> 
> _More than ever  
Hour after  
Our work is  
Never over_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a few edits on previous chapters to fix grammar, wording, and formatting, but the only thing of note is the edit I made on Chapter 1 where it says "not only because he was given life a mere year ago." I changed it from two years to one year since I forgot that Age of Ultron came out only a year before Civil War... (-｡-;) So yeah, Vision is still only a year old.
> 
> If you are wondering where some of the other characters are (like the other person to the pairing *ahem*) many other characters will appear as the story progresses, so don't worry! Though I'm trying to make it flow smoothly (hence, the slow burn tag [but it's not the slowest of slow burns]) I will most likely add more character tags as the story continues.
> 
> Thank you again for the support on this story!***
> 
> ***This A/N was written long before the posting of this chapter, so there are a few things that need to be addressed. First of all, this chapter is shorter/not complete. I'll explain this more in the A/N at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Tony sighed for what felt like the hundredth time this week. Although he believes in the idea of the Accords and what they could do for the relations between superhumans and the rest of the world, they aren’t perfect, and revisions needed to be made so that the Accords could never cage a powered individual, take away their privacy, or make them into a task force that the Council could order around (*cough cough* _ Ross _). Most importantly, superhumans needed the same rights and representation that unenhanced humans have, and the system between governments, law enforcement, and superhumans willing to use their abilities in public and in the workforce, particularly superheroes, needed to be fair and functional for all parties.

_That’s_ what he had hoped to do with the Accords. It was why he agreed with them in the first place. The _idea_ was good, but to make changes, he needed _“one hand on the wheel”_ as <strike>Nat</strike> _Romanoff_ had said. That’s why he needed the others to agree as well, so it would be _easier_ to make those changes. With such an influential group at the back of the Accords, the world would have certainly listened. Unfortunately, the majority of the Avengers broke a multitude of laws, caused a great deal of harm and property damage, and to top it all off, became international fugitives. With the destruction they caused, many members of the Council were frightened and _(understandably but frustratingly)_ unwilling to let superhumans live freely.

“These _ enhanced _ are a _ danger _ to our society! Just look at what happened in Bucharest, Lagos, and Leipzig! Not to mention the hundreds of other smaller incidents by lesser-known individuals! We cannot continue to let them endanger us and cost us billions in repairs and hundreds in lives! How long will we sit back and ignore this? How much time will it take for another event like this to strike? It could be in ten years, it could be ten weeks, it could be ten days, it could be tomorrow! How much blood needs to be shed for us to _ do _ something? We need restrictions and we need them now!” the Nigerian Council member all but screamed, waving his hands around frantically in his rage.

Several other Council members nodded in agreement.

_ ( _ <strike> _ 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101001 01101110 01110011 _ </strike> _ ) _

“We cannot get ahead of ourselves here,” the newly crowned Wakandan king intervened. “We cannot incarcerate people or take away their rights as citizens of this world. Putting restrictions on them and imprisoning them, taking them from their normal life, not only is that unjust, but it is also unethical.”

** _(_ ** <strike> ** _01100011 01100001 01100111 01100101_ ** </strike> ** _)_ **

“So, what? Are you willing to have more innocent people die out there because of them?” the Nigerian ambassador retorted. “Wakandans, _ your people, _ were killed in the attack in Lagos! You also had no trouble chasing the Winter Soldier, an _ enhanced, _ mind you, for his blood after the bombing in Vienna,” he sneered.

_ (1̸̨͚̣̪̠͛͛́̑1̸̛̛̥̭̜̙̬̿͛̓ ̴̨̗̣̖̟͆͂̓̎̽W̷̢͙̞̭͇̓͆͛̈́̊ä̶͔̠̤̜͇̉̇̅͠k̷̢̦̥̰̤͆̃̐̌̚a̵̢̞͔̟̺͂̆̈́̈́n̷͉͎̞̭͇̂̈́̎̌̑ḍ̸̩̣͉̮̄̈́̔͘͝ȃ̶̢̢̛̱͖̤̎̅͐n̸͚̻͈͙̝̓̍͊͌͝s̷̤̹̖͔͇̔͋̐̔͘ ̷̛͓̯̦̰͉̀̓͘ẇ̶͈̙̳̻͂̔̃͘͜e̴̙̝̦̗̦͆͛̅̈́͛r̷̨͚̳̲̝͆̑̇̌̀e̶͙̹̠̟̥͐͑̀̄͘ ̴̺͕͙̜͍̓̎̈́̇̓a̴̛͕̖̩͈͗̌̀͌͜m̸̨͈͇̣͎̉̅̒̓͝o̸͈̦̩̖̖̾̏͝͠ǹ̴̙̙͍̗̰͊̉̇͗g̷͈̥͔̘͉̅̓̐͘ ̸̡̘̟̙̻̈́͂͗̒͑t̴̺̹̜̼̗̋͐̎̈́͝h̸̩̙͚̪̦̎͑̐͂͝ǫ̴͔̺̫̬̎̓̌͠ṡ̴̛͈̤̙̻̹̇̀̑e̶̡̡̞͙̥̅̈́̽̕̕ ̸̝͇̬̱̔̿̾̐͜͝k̴̳̭̱̪̦̂͌͛̕͝i̶̼̠͎͔̙̅͂̄̇l̷̛͇̹̭͉͖͌̀͆̍l̷͓̗͔̲̺͛͐̈́̕͝e̸̡̧̜͙̖̓͂̒d̷̡̟̘̭̭̾͒̍̈́—̴͕̰̖͖͕͒̓̾̾̕) _

“I... was naive, then. It is not an excuse, but I was grieving, as others still are,” the king stated shamefully. “It has been a… long month for all of us, but I have learned much these past few weeks before my country’s reintroduction into the world. I cannot stand by any longer while so many other people of this world are suffering, and while I understand the many nations’ need for justice, we must handle this subject both patiently and professionally, taking into account every point of view. Being hasty with these decisions is foolish,” he reasoned.

** _(d̷̠̲̟͍̖̄̓̓̇͑a̸̺͈̖̺͈͌̑̉̀ṫ̴̫̺̺̹͂́̇̕͜ã̵̗̹̪̬̲̊̓̆̀ ̵̲̯̮̞͋͗́͂͑ͅd̷͙̘̰̩͉̋̌̂͒͘a̷̢̛̞̱̱̞̾͛̔̂t̶̩̺̼̲͖̿́́̃͗a̸̧̠͈̣͈͛̈́͆́͝ ̴̧̩͈̠̈́̎͗̽̋ͅd̷̡͖͇͉̼͗̍͛̒͆a̴̩̗̞̘͚͐̎̎̓͘ẗ̶̩̯̬̦̉͆̚ͅa̸̢̗̤̻̥͋̓͗̽͝ ̸̢͎͈̝̩͒̽͛̽̒n̵̥̜̖͚̾̕͘͘͜ų̵̤̙͇͔̄́͐͆̍m̷̖̞͙͈̜̐͐̽̓b̸̡̛͔̮̋͌̈́͜ͅë̴̟̯̬̣̖́̍͑͊͝r̶̨̻̮̩͓̊̇͑s̷̟̩̻͓̙͐̏͋͂̕ ̸̫̤̠͍͊͑͑̍͝ͅb̷̢̥̭̹͌̐͐̕͜͝l̸̰̘͈̯͍̓͗͆̕ū̵̢̙̱̬͈̂͆͋͠e̵̦̫̘̖͖͊̓̈́̔̕ ̸̹̝̟̫̫͋̈́̓̚s̷̘̭͖͍͐̒́̆͜͠t̸͙̼͓̺͒̈̐̈́͘ͅā̶̡̡̘͔͖̑̔̈̅t̵͎͖̲̗̮́̒̃͐̓î̵̤̼̭̝̫̓͘c̸͇̲̙̳̊̎̃͋̋͜ ̷͖͕̞͎̜̈́̿̍̈́s̴̩̯͙̙̜̆̽̓͋o̸͙̠͓͙̔̅͒̚ͅ ̵̫̗̗̥̉̓̑̑ͅm̴̰̞̰̱̠̎͊͛̑̈́u̵͇̠̳̪̦̇̈́̋̌̋c̸̢̻̹̖̼̆̉͐̈̏h̸͓͓̥̬͒̐̈́͌͜͠ ̷̜͍̙̓̎̂͊͜͜͠t̸̞͎͖͉̙́̔̔̈́͆o̵̧͍̠͈͉̐̐̅͝ǫ̴͓̱̼͙̇̇͛͝͠ ̸̡̦̣͚̤͛̌͊͒ṃ̷̡̳̪͉̓̆̏͌̊ų̴̣̲̰̼͂̈̂̚ć̴̢̥̤͔̗̔͑͠ḧ̶̢͉̥͉̆͑̚͝ͅ—̴̢̩̦̩̣̒̓̿͝)_ **

“What are your thoughts on this, Mr. Stark?” the British ambassador’s voice interrupted the two Council members’ argument and Tony’s buzzing brain. The ambassador looked at him curiously, while at the same time looking slightly irritated at the indecision of his fellow council members. _ ( _ <strike> _ Tony could relate. _ </strike> _ ) _ Tony jumped, startled, and readjusted his dark sunglasses shielding his face _ (to hide his no doubt glowing eyes) _ and took a moment to focus on not gripping the table too hard in frustration.

“I agree with both the ambassador and King T’Challa,” Tony began plainly. “Yes, rules need to be put in place for situations like these, but at the same time, we cannot use inhumane methods to deal with superhumans. That would be obstructing fundamental human rights. There needs to be a _ balance, _ ” he tried to emphasize. “The goal is for superhumans to work _ together _ with everyone else, as we all should. The original Avengers did not work because of the lack of communication between us and law enforcement which caused unnecessary and avoidable property damage,” Tony explained.

“If you know this now,” the Nigerian ambassador responded, “what about before? Did you not stop to think about what you ‘superheroes’ leave behind? The casualties, the damage, the aftermath?” he questioned angrily.

Tony winced. He didn’t blame the ambassador for being rightfully furious for the damage caused by the... ‘Rogue’ Avengers, and he was used to criticism and blame, yet…

“If I recall correctly, ambassador,” King T’Challa intervened, making a gesture with his hand to silence the Council member, “Mr. Stark has been the primary member of the Avengers who had taken responsibility for such things. He had managed PR for them for years and was the only member present for damage control and similar events.”

With that, Tony was shocked. T’Challa was defending him? _ Him? _ Sure, they were ‘allies’ in a loose sense during the Civil War, but they were just barely acquaintances, hardly talking to each other. Not that there was any conflict, but they didn’t _ know _ each other very well. So why would he defend him? Yes, he did handle the PR for the Avengers and appeared in public events for them, but it was part of his job.

_ ( _ <strike> _ No one had questioned it, it wasn’t anything to take note of… _ </strike> _ ) _

“Then what of the other Avengers? Were they too lazy, or worse, didn’t care about what was left for the people they saved? And now they run off to become fugitives, hiding away like cowards without any thought of the mess they made? Where are they now?”

“We cannot get ahead of ourselves, ambassador. This is a complex situation, so we should handle it carefully. As for the other Avengers, we do not have any information about their location as of yet...” the king assured nervously.

The nervousness, the anxiety, was a reminder.

_ (A reminder of what, _ <strike> _ who _ </strike> _ was residing in his country.) _

“It should be easy to find them with the technology that you showed off earlier in the week, and even without the tech, it would be simple! Disaster follows them wherever they go! Are you defending them? Are you excusing what they’ve done?!”

_ ( _ <strike> _ It was easy, almost too easy to figure out, even if it was originally by accident. King T’Challa and the entirety of Wakanda was filled with so much _ ** _technology_ ** _ and so many _ ** _connections_ ** _ . _ </strike> _ ) _

“No, no! I’m simply saying…”

_ ( _ <strike> _ Another secret. Another betrayal, though the sting was a bit less painful because of the lack of familiarity. _ </strike> _ ) _

“Yes, what _ are _ you saying?!”

_ (M̷̨̢̢̺̝̊̎͝͝a̴̡̛͉̲͈̮͒̀͗̚ḱ̸͇̮̠̳̩̂̋̒̾ȩ̸̫̝̙̦̈́͑̈́́̄ ̶͉͈̰̙̝̈́̍̿̾̿ỉ̶̜̪͍͓̭̍̿̎̈t̷̢̛̘͓̂̈́̊̿͜ͅ ̸̫͇͉͇̙̾̈́̓͗̔s̵̨̼̤͈̻̋̊͋̈́͒t̸̠̜̙̘̆̇͐́̊ͅo̸̡̤̻̹͙͂͆̒̉p̸̨̼͍̤̪̃̓̄̕͝.̸̧̢͇͔̲̏͛̃͆͑) _

_ ( _ ** _M̴̡̯͚̻̘͂͊̿̈́̚a̶͚̫̱̜̪̓͂̒̄̽k̶͍͚̣̜̤̀͑̊̈́̕e̸̢̺͓̳͈͗͂̆̏͂ ̵̹̰͎̻̙͂̒̂͝i̷̻̪͈̳̜͑̀͑̈́t̵̤͓͔̻͇̾̒̎̂̕ ̴̛͍͉̳͉̮͌̽̕s̵͙̻̣̝̻̋͒̋̈͌t̸̖͖̬̦̙̓͌͐̈́̎ǫ̷̥͓̭̺̐̇̃̄̂p̸͎̟̹͕͈̾́̇͘͝!̶̜͉̪̱͉̏̓̂͛͝_ ** _ ) _

  
  


Tony abruptly stood up and clapped his hands.

“I believe a 15-minute break is in order.”

He walked out of the meeting room briskly, not waiting for a response and rushed to the nearest bathroom and sat in the stall with his knees to his chest, covering his ears with hands futilely to quiet the white noise, the _ static, _ clenching his eyes shut even when he could still see the _ numbers, so many numbers, _ and waited for it to _ just stop stop stop. _

FRIDAY hovered worriedly at the edge of the link.

* * *

Explaining his ‘disappearance’ to the media was surprisingly easy, though he should’ve expected it. _ ( _ <strike> _ Of course, he had to put a bunch of makeup on his face before the press conference, since Extremis was a massive facelift that he _ ** _really_ ** _ did _ ** _not_ ** _ want to have to explain to the press, _ ** _at all._ ** </strike> _ ) _ With the help of Pepper, they clarified that he was injured while fighting off some super soldiers that had been discovered at an abandoned Hydra base in between the whole Civil War fiasco. It was not technically a lie, though it wasn’t the whole truth. _ ( _ <strike> _ flashy fake smiles _ </strike> _ ) _ They explained that it was why Pepper, Vision, and his medical staff were at the hospital they visited shortly after his rescue and that his injuries were _ ‘not life-threatening ( _ <strike> _ lies lies lies _ </strike> _ ), but serious enough to warrant medical attention.’ _ It was enough to satisfy the people, many chalking up his withdrawal from the public eye as _ ‘Tony Stark being dramatic as usual.’ _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Give them what they want. _ </strike> _ ) _

He tried not to let that hurt him as much as it did.

_ (Many people were also more than unhappy that he opposed Captain America, the glorious national hero, and pushed him and the other Avengers out, along with his other stupid decisions, because _ Tony Stark was a rude, reckless, and careless man, ignorant and narcissistic and frankly, a menace to society in the eyes of the public _ .) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ Nothing could ever change that. _ </strike> _ ) _

But he has no time to pity himself. He has so much work to do.

It’s fine. _ He’s _ fine.

He’s used to this.

* * *

It was completely by accident, maybe slightly _ (probably, definitely) _ a breach in privacy, but it hurt him _ ( _ <strike> _ frightened him, _ ** _terrified_ ** _ him _ </strike> _ ) _ nonetheless.

Days after his little ‘wake up call’ with Tony realizing that he shouldn’t be wasting his time moping about _ personal problems _ when there were things to be done, he had begun _ (again) _ to work on revising the Accords as the _ (only) _ representative of the Avengers. It was a complicated process, as all politics were, but necessary.

He was debating with another Council member about the logistics of the ‘superheroes’ clause in the Accords when King T’Challa interrupted their conversation.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned around.

“King T’Challa,” he said politely in return, shaking the outstretched hand firmly.

Just then, a sudden _jolt_ of _connections electricity information data sound_ shot through him, from his hand to his arm to his head where he could _see,_ the information coming from T’Challa’s _kimoyo beads_ that were made of _vibranium_ _(_<strike>_slamming down on the arc reactor_</strike>_)_ which was from _Wakanda_ the country of _technological marvels_ and the residence to—

Them.

They were _ there. _ _ In Wakanda. _

The ‘Rogues.’

He’s watching from the cameras of the palace that the beads were connected to. He _ knew _ so much now. There was so much _ data _ stored into the beads, so many _ links _ to other sources, so much open to him it was overwhelming but they were _ there. _

They were there and _ relaxing. _ They were there, over 5,000 kilometers away but still _ close. _ They were there and _ in reach. _ They were close, _ too close, _ to close for his liking, to close for his comfort and he could see them all _ (except Romanoff, who was nowhere to be found, who ran off to places unknown) _ and _ he _ was there.

God, no. _ He _ was there.

_ Rogers. _

Rogers, who was staring longingly at his frozen friend, putting a hand to the glass of the _ cyro _ tube and gazing for hours.

Rogers, who disregarded the Accords and caused mass property damage.

Rogers, who lied to him, who beat him and left him to die _ ( _ <strike> _ cold ice freezing help _ — </strike> _ ), _ who was like everyone else.

Who he trusted.

Rogers, with the rest of his team, who was in Wakanda which was filled with vibranium which made up its technology which was on the king’s wrist which was the same material that almost killed him, _ did _ kill him, and he was there, he was _ there _—

“...Stark? Are you alright?”

The shock of information that ran through him in the span of a few seconds subsided, and he could see King T’Challa’s concerned face staring right back at him.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Everyone hides something. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ What are _ _ you _ _ hiding? _ </strike> _ ) _

Tony blinked rapidly, pushing his attention away from his panic and shook his head slightly to focus on the other’s words.

“Sorry,” he apologized while pinching between his eyes. “I must’ve zoned out, long week and all. You were saying?”

He could see the king eyeing him for a moment before going off about a potential clause dealing with superhumans in little known and rural areas.

Tony silently thanked his dark, specialized sunglasses that blocked the sight of his eyes.

* * *

Tony spent many sleepless nights, _ weeks, _ in his lab trying to perfect the model for Rhodey’s leg braces, making slight customizations, fiddling with every knob and joint, and contemplating design and practicality for every feature. He researched, ran tests, fine-tuned movement, so on and so forth, and barely slept through all of it.

For someone else, it might seem like he was going overboard but to him, this was _ Rhodey. _ Rhodey deserved the best. He deserved the best because it was _ Tony’s _ fault that Rhodey was paralyzed. Not Vision. Not anyone else. It was _ him. _

He should’ve included more power sources or some kind of emergency parachute _ (thank goodness he remembered that for the Spiderling) _ or maybe just a sturdier armor. He could’ve prevented this whole situation in the first place.

_ ( _ <strike> _ If he wasn’t so careless. _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ If he wasn’t so _ ** _weak_ ** _ . _ </strike> _ ) _

“What’s this, Tony?” Rhodey asked inquisitively, curiously looking at the contraption in front of him.

“It’ll help you walk,” Tony said excitedly. “I designed them and tested them over and over and they should work almost flawlessly, but I need your feedback so it can be _ perfect. _”

Rhodey was startled. “Tony, I… how much time did you spend making this? You look…” he waved his hands around in order to come up with an appropriate word to describe his friend’s appearance, “...frazzled.”

“Irrelevant!” the genius sing-songed, deflecting the question while kneeling down, setting up the braces on Rhodey’s legs, and attempting to ignore the thought of the _ real _ reason he hadn’t slept well in so long _ ( _ <strike> _ all my fault, don’t forgive me, shield above him crashing down— _ </strike> _ ). _

_ He has enough to worry about. _

He slid the braces around Rhodey’s legs carefully, snapping each piece into place. After the final adjustment, the device _ clicked _ and the miniature arc reactor placed in it whirred and glowed, powering the braces.

Rhodey observed the invention from his wheelchair.

It was a sleek design, the black, metal parts gently but firmly cradling his legs, hips, and part of his back, with blue circuitry flowing through them from the arc reactor. He could feel the faint vibration of the energy from the reactor traveling from the braces to his back, and he could see the intricacy and dedication put into it.

Rhodey was already impressed.

“Now, the braces _ should _ track electrical signals from your spine and move how you to tell it to with your mind, but it’s pretty complex and I haven’t got the chance to work with a professional to help with it yet. _ But, _ this is the first version, _ and _ I’m planning to make a nanotech version in the future when I’m able to make more nanobots,” Tony rambled passionately.

“Let’s do a test run, shall we? I’ll help you,” he said with a smile on his face.

“OK then…” Rhodey nodded uncertainly.

Slowly, Rhodey concentrated and shifted his legs, and, with Tony supporting him, he gradually stood up.

He took a tentative step.

And then another.

And another.

_ Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. _

He’s _ walking. _

The movements were clunky, sure, but he could _ control _ them. He could _ move. _

Rhodey was left gaping in awe at the device, and Tony frowned, seeing his expression and mistaking it for dissatisfaction.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked anxiously, looking at the braces to find any faults. “I can fix it, no worries! I could add things if you want. Shock absorption, lateral movement—”

Rhodey suddenly wrapped his best friend in a tight hug. Tony, froze, surprised and awkwardly returned it.

_ “Thank you,” _ he laughed wetly, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. _ God, _ he wanted to convey just how thankful he was. It was amazing, _ incredible, _ and he couldn’t be happier, couldn’t believe that he’s regained something that he thought was lost forever.

_ (Though, was he really surprised? Tony had done the impossible so many times before, and he made inventions that were merely science fiction previously. The thought of the uses for this kind of tech, it could help so many army veterans and people with disabilities, it was mind-blowing.) _

“No problem, platypus,” Tony returned with a hesitant smile while hugging his friend tighter.

_ (If a few tears slipped out of his eyes, well, neither of them acknowledged it and continued to embrace each other.) _

_ (It was a flicker of contentment, fulfillment, and pride that shined briefly through the never-ending waves of guilt he had. It was a step towards making up for his many, many mistakes, mistakes that could probably never be absolved but he’d try anyway.) _

_ (He’d try.) _

* * *

Ross, _ as always, _ was a fucking pain in the ass but was even more so after the Rogues _ proved his point _ with the whole Civil War. Not only that, but more people were also starting to agree with him on his strict stance on restricting superhumans. Ross was positively gleeful. He probably realized that this scenario was the best result he could have gotten for himself.

_ Asshole, _ Tony thought sourly, crossing his arms while listening to another one of the Secretary’s spiels on the dangers of leaving enhanced running freely.

Recently, a new, concerning development was put forth by said Secretary which was rapidly gaining traction.

The Superhuman Registration Act.

The _ exact _ kind of thing that Tony was hoping to avoid.

He understood the public’s wariness _ ( _ _ f̸̢̡̙͌͑͠e̸̪̦̘͌͘͝a̴̝̻͖̐̕̕r̵̫̟̾̽̓͜ _ _ ) _ of superhumans because of the Civil War _ ( _ <strike> _ hell, he understood it personally, the number of nightmares he’s had would prove it _ </strike> _ ), _ but as with all things Ross, it was bound to become _ (more) _ corrupt.

The registration of all superhumans and their abilities, names, personal information, and more? It was practically a death sentence, with all the information people would need to hunt down and kill _ (or worse, _ _ experiment _ _ on) _ the members of the enhanced community. The Superhuman Registration Act, or the SHRA, as it was being called, was particularly harmful to the mutant community that had started to become more pronounced. With the discrimination and prejudice against them that was already there, this Act was incredibly devastating.

Even if the SHRA had the slightest bit of good intentions, Tony _ knew _ that Ross would not pass up an opportunity to make more super soldiers and twist the Registration Act’s words to fit his _ modus operandi. _ Too much of the document _ (not to mention the Accords as well) _ could be taken _ (conveniently) _ out of context and used to control superhumans like _ animals. _

_ Ironic, isn’t it? Cap’s quest to ‘free’ his buddy Barnes from corrupt hands resulted in less freedom for not only both of them but a whole community of people as well, _ Tony couldn’t help but bitterly think. _ Captain America, the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan, the hero of America, a symbol of freedom, justice, bravery, and perfection, endangering the ones he claims to protect. _

Tony was more than a little spiteful.

Ross’s ranting had come to a manic climax, and Tony had to fight his rising irritation as to not accidentally blow something up _ (and someone along with the explosion) _ with Extremis _ (not that Ross didn’t deserve it). _

It was a risk being here, as he was now an enhanced individual in the midst of more than a few anti-enhanced people, but he had no time to _ fully _ grasp his abilities _ before _ getting to work on the revisions of the Accords and other areas. _ ( _ <strike> _ Not that he wasn’t going to train them. _ _ No. _ _ He was far too dangerous but _ — </strike> _ ) _ The changes needed to start _ immediately. _ He couldn’t wait. The documents would affect so many people, children, families, and not necessarily in a good way.

And now, Tony would be more affected as well.

_ ( _ <strike> _ Not that he really cared about himself in comparison to others, but if Ross were to find out… _ </strike> _ ) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ He didn’t want to think about it. _ </strike> _ ) _

Still, he understood the importance of well-formulated laws and the workings of government and politics. Years as CEO of Stark Industries and as Iron Man taught him many things. That, and being part of the Avengers had earned him an honorary spot in the Council as the representative of the group. He was essentially the liaison between the enhanced and unenhanced communities, providing some much-needed insight into the views of both parties with his extensive knowledge. He was a crucial part in ensuring both superhuman equality and good relationships between enhanced and the government. He could _ not _ fail. _ ( _ <strike> _ He can’t. He _ ** _can’t._ ** </strike> _ ) _

“—can’t be contained by _ tame means. _ Just look at the destruction of the Raft!”

_ (No one mentioned that the Raft was all _ kinds _ of illegal. Ross had already committed so many human rights violations that it was a wonder that he stayed in such a position of power when he was so obviously corrupt.) _

_ ( _ <strike> _ But fear can make people desperate for any kind of protection, even at the expense of others. _ </strike> _ ) _

Tony fought to keep his expression neutral and his connections blocked.

Once he has gathered all the evidence against him _ (oh, FRIDAY will _ ** _love_ ** _ to sort through all those files with him) _ , he’ll bury Ross so deep in lawsuits that he’ll never see the light of day again. He’ll be discarded and _ forgotten. _ Nothing more than yesterday’s trash.

Tony will bide his time.

_ (Move forward, forward, forward.) _

* * *

“Full scan of it, Fri. Lay it out for me.”

“Affirmative.”

A massive hologram lights up in front of him where he’s sitting in his favorite chair right next to his main workshop desk and it’s a screen full of _ blue, _ numbers, and lines of code in a new coding language that was created by itself, by Extremis and the nanobots. There are little bits of his own coding language that he can recognize, streams of it similar to JARVIS and FRIDAY’s matrix and tiny parts that look like the code for DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers, but the rest is unintelligible, a new, incredibly complex language to learn and dissect. They are ever-changing, the numbers moving quickly and changing from one to the next, chaotic yet organized in some way he couldn’t understand yet.

This was _ him. _

This was _ Tony. _

His code.

His _ system. _

Even with Extremis and its, at times, frightening abilities _ ( _ <strike> _ he never wanted to be enhanced, it reminded him too much of someone else _ </strike> _ ), _ it never ceased to amaze and fascinate him.

He was all about technology, machinery, engineering, and the future, and his coding was all that and _ more. _ It was an actual challenge to crack and Tony was excited to learn more.

But he also needed more knowledge to better understand his control over his _ powers. _ _ ( _ Ugh. _ He hated calling it that.) _ His _ abilities _ were entirely new to him and to be able to control them better, he needed to understand their basics and how they worked, how his system functioned. FRIDAY had helped immensely so far, but ability control with vague and unclear feelings was confusing and not as logical as coding, and FRIDAY could better explain things in numbers and code rather than _ emotions. _

He was thankful and _ proud _ of his baby girl, though. Much like Vision, she was _ young. _ She was still learning, yet she has already grown so much. _ ( _ <strike> _ It still hurt sometimes, because he was so proud of JARVIS, he loved him, he was so much but he lost him because of his own stupid decisions, and FRIDAY, sweet sweet FRIDAY, he loved her just like he loved all of his precious AIs and he _ — </strike> _ ) _

Tony sent the feeling of his awe, curiosity, appreciation, and love to FRIDAY through the link.

She responds with a wave of love and excitement of her own that wraps around his mind.

_ ‘Let’s get to work.’ _

_ ‘Yes, Boss!’ _

* * *

_ “—reworking a section of the Accords—” _

* * *

_ “—the addition of the Emergencies Clause—” _

* * *

_ “They need to be—!” _

* * *

“If we resort to inhumane ways to contain… enhanced, we are no better than the criminals and terrorists that hurt, torture, and kill innocents without reason or remorse.”

“But Mr. Stark, surely you can see that—!”

_ “No.” _ His sharp eyes seem to cut through everyone even behind his sunglasses and his voice is cold.

Silence from the Council, the analysts, debaters, and ambassadors.

He sighs and resists the urge to rub his eyes. _ ( _ <strike> _ He refuses to show weakness. _ </strike> _ ) _

He continues.

“I understand your concerns with the containment of criminals with superpowers, Councilmember,” he says sympathetically to the man, who is nervously fidgeting and glancing at him.

“I understand that you fear for the safety of others and your country when it comes to enhanced, and your concerns are valid.” He glares pointedly at a few individuals who opened their mouths to interrupt and they quickly shrink inwards at his expression.

“_ However, _ using chains, gags, harmful drugs, and other restraints harshly on these people when it is not _ absolutely necessary _ is _ not _ the answer. Now, I’m not saying that all superpowered criminals should go unpunished, no. I’m merely asking you to consider the mental, social, ethical, and whatever else implications of your actions against superhumans.” He can see their lingering uneasiness and hints of fearful curiosity shining in their eyes as he pauses for a second to let the statement sink in.

“Throughout history, so many groups, for a variety of reasons, have been segregated, discriminated against, killed, and tortured for a supposed fault,” he explains gravely. “Devastating events have happened, including slavery, encampments, imprisonments, and many other terrible events in history that we’d like to forget. And this? Limiting superhumans’ privacy and freedom, separating them from the rest of the world, punishing them for things that many of them can’t control? It’s too similar of a situation.”

There’s a mix of horrified faces full of dread that grows as the people in the room start to have the same dawning realization.

“I know that the vast number of casualties, the amount of property damage, the number of livelihoods shattered can’t be brushed aside or ignored, and I am not saying we should,” he argued. “But the treatment of superhumans, people who are simply a bit different than regular humans, is unacceptable. How far are we willing to ignore our human rights and our ethical values? How far are we willing to ignore countless events in history that have repeatedly taught us the same lessons of the importance of accepting someone that is different than us? _ Where is the _ _ line? _ ”

With that, Tony walks away from the podium and returns to his seat, ignoring the shocked looks and the deathly quiet room.

** _(0̵̺̫̺̐̔1̸̠̞̞̔̚1̵̟̦͔̓̈́͒1̸͔͔͛͠0̴͎̦̞̾1̵͕͓͕̐̈́͝0̸͇̪̫̽͐0̴͕̫͉͆̾͌ 0̴͕̺̺͘͠͝1̸̡̙͍͝͠1̴̢̡͉͛̔1̴̘̫͐͒͝0̵̞̠͍͛͋͊1̵̠͖̓̾͊0̸͉͇̙͋̚͝1̸͔̞͙͘͝͝ 0̸̦͐̕̚͜1̵̫̫͕̿͊̒1̵͇̦͙͆͊̔1̴̼͚̟͑͐͆0̵͖͖̺̈́̈́0̵͎̼̙̓̒̓1̸͍̠̈́͘͠0̴̼͙̼̈́̓̕ 0̵̻̝̈́͋͊1̸͓̙̙̿͊̐1̸̡͖͑̈́̚͜0̸̟͕̈́͝1̴̠̙͋͆͋͜1̵͉͍͕͆̈́̔0̸͎̠̝̈́͒1̵̼̟̠̒͑ 0̸̻͉̝̈́͝͠1̸̦̠͛̿̚͜1̴̟̼͚̔͑͠0̸̼̝̓͐̚͜1̴͉̠̪̓͛1̴̫̦͆̽̕1̵̫͙̟̽̐͝1̵͉͚̙̾̾̒ 0̴͉̻͔̾͑͝1̵͕̻̫͋͘1̵̦̦̠͑0̴̦͕̟̽͊͘1̸̡͉̽͝0̵͎͓͚̐̽0̸̝̙̻̔̒͝1̴̼̫͕̿͆͠ 0̴̢̘͕͌̔͠1̴̟̠͘͝͠1̴̻̪̠͑̓͠0̴̘̠̦̿̓̽1̵̡̺̟̔̐1̸͙͓̼̈́̓͛0̸̢͖͎̈́̚0̵̪͚̘͑̐͘)_ **

_ (One step at a time.) _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit.
> 
> First of all, I am _incredibly_ sorry that it took me this long (over half a year... shit) to update this fic. There are a lot of reasons why this happened, but mostly I just lost a ton of motivation to do anything because of the pandemic. A lot has been going on since I last updated, with the shutdowns and school, and... yeah. I kind of fell out of writing this fic. It also doesn't help that I've been focusing on other fandoms like Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I saw for the first time on Netflix about a month ago. (I can't believe I hadn't watched that show before then, it's so good!)
> 
> (And I've also been sucked back into the Hetalia fandom again [_sigh_] and if you don't know about that show, please do _not_ try to find out about it for the sake of your own sanity. [Or do, who am I to stop you?])
> 
> (Honestly, the rapidness of my fandom-switching and how much fanfiction I've read is a bit worrying...)
> 
> So I haven't been that focused on Marvel at all... (And with no Marvel Movies coming out in a while, that's another reason...)
> 
> Also, with this fic, I hadn't fleshed out the entire plot and the storylines and that made it more difficult to write with more connected scenes...
> 
> Overall, I just wanted to say that I'm very _very_ sorry for the inactivity, and I posted this shorter/incomplete chapter to kind of make up for it, and just post what I have written left but hasn't been shown.
> 
> What will happen to this fic? Honestly, I can't say for sure. As of right now, this fic is on a hiatus until further notice. In the future, I might continue on where I left off, or I might rewrite the fic from the start or make a long one-shot version of the story instead of a multi-chaptered fic, with significantly less content, but more importantly, a complete story. I feel like a major asshole for doing this to you guys and the people who have been eagerly waiting to see what happens next because I know how unsatisfying an unfinished fic can be, and I can't apologize enough for it.
> 
> The future of this account? I'll probably write more one-shots and not too long fics instead of big, long fics, and I'll most likely (or I'll try to) write the whole thing (or at least have it completely planned out) before posting. They'll probably be from various fandoms with my rapid fandom-switching.
> 
> Thanks for all the support.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment constructive criticism if you can and tell me what you think. Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> Stay tuned for more!


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